


Turn Me Inside Out

by morganoconner



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Friendship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-25
Updated: 2010-07-25
Packaged: 2017-10-18 05:57:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/185730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morganoconner/pseuds/morganoconner
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An angel walks into a bar in Heaven…</p>
            </blockquote>





	Turn Me Inside Out

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [](http://everysecondtues.livejournal.com/profile)[**everysecondtues**](http://everysecondtues.livejournal.com/) for the [](http://castielfest.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://castielfest.livejournal.com/)**castielfest** exchange.

He’s surprised to find the Roadhouse empty when he appears in front of the bar. Time has no meaning where they are, and even at its most peaceful, this place is _never_ entirely lacking for patrons.

Jo turns at the sound of his arrival and tosses him an easy smile as she finishes washing the glass she’s holding.

It’s amazing, how she keeps things so very _human_ in a place that is so very not.

“Jo,” Castiel says, offering his own small smile. He likes Jo, likes conversing with her when his duties grow to be too wearing on him, likes the way she speaks plainly and never…bullshits, as Dean would say. “It’s good to see you, but…” He glances around again.

She laughs. “Kicked everybody out early today.”

He likes that she still talks as though days are separated, spaced out so that there’s always a new one to look forward to. “Should I go as well?” he asks, wondering if she simply wants time to herself.

“Hell no, sit your ass down,” she demands, and he acquiesces without complaint, taking a seat on one of the barstools and placing his elbows on the bar. “You’ve been coming in here for days now, lookin’ like you had something on your mind. So, we’re gonna talk about it.”

She’s very like her mother, another woman Castiel likes very much. Ellen doesn’t run this place as she did on earth, preferring to spend her days with her husband, searching out those of their friends they haven’t found yet and leaving the business, such as it is, to Jo. It’s easy to see how much Jo appreciates and enjoys the responsibility.

Sometimes, though, Castiel could do without the bossiness Jo inherited.

“We are?” he asks, tilting his head as she hands him a glass of cool beer. He smiles fondly, remembering the first time he had a beverage such as this, and sips while she hops over the bar and sits on the stool next to his.

“Damn straight we are.” She’s wearing that stubborn expression he’s come to recognize. “By my reckoning it’s been about a year since you helped save the world. Even if it’s been longer up here, it’s still not long enough for you to go back to bein’ all stoic and moody.”

He raises an eyebrow at her. “Have I seemed…stoic and moody lately?”

“Yep. And I don’t like it. Now spill.”

He glances away, his eyes finding the bar, tracing over the marks etched into the polished wood by the hunters who have sat here. With a thought, Jo could probably have them looking like new again, but he knows she never will. “My apologies for my…moroseness,” he says, grimacing a little, because he hadn’t realized she’d somehow learned to read him so well. “The last several weeks, I’ve been hearing Dean calling for me, and it’s…” He trails off.

She arches a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. “Only the last several weeks?” she asks. “Really? He held out longer than I’da given him credit for.”

He sighs. “Each time his voice comes to me, he sounds more angry, more depressed. He’s supposed to be happy, Jo. He’s supposed to be enjoying a normal life, as his brother wanted for him. As _I_ wanted for him. If anyone deserves it, it’s Dean Winchester.”

“Course he does,” Jo says. “And you should’ve known that’s the last thing he’d _want_.” She snorts. “Are all men just hardwired to be idiots?” At his look, she smiles, shaking her head a little. “Cas. Dean wants to be happy, but the way he was raised… He’s not cut out for the apple-pie life everyone thinks he wants. He won’t be happy with Lisa, no matter how hard he tries. He needs…someone who’ll challenge him, and who’ll stand the hell up to him when he’s an idiot. He needs someone who understands him, _all_ of him, and doesn’t judge him for it. Lisa’s a strong person, I’m sure, but she’s not strong enough for what Dean needs. I guarantee it. He needs…” She trails off, looking away, and Castiel’s head tilts.

“What does he need, Jo?” Castiel wants to know… _needs_ to know, because he needs to be able to give Dean _something_.

Jo meets his eyes, her chocolate gaze steady and unflinching as she finally replies with, “He needs _you_ , Cas.”

Castiel flinches before he can hold it back. Emotions aren’t a switch he can flip on and off at will. Since his near-Fall, he’s had to become accustomed to being in Heaven and feeling just as much as he did on Earth, and it’s not easy. Nor is it always enjoyable, and he has to look away again when Jo’s eyes fill with gentle understanding.

“Not the first time you’ve thought about the idea, huh?” she says knowingly. Her lips curve. “Dean has that effect, doesn’t he?” She reaches over, takes one of his hands in her smaller ones. “For the record, you’d be good for him. You’d never stop givin’ each other hell, but you’d be good for him. You’d both be good for each other.”

“I can’t…” He stops, swallows, starts over. “I’m not supposed to want…”

“Cas.” Her voice is sharp now, her hands tight around his. “Don’t you give me that crap. You’re not _supposed_ to? Look around! Who’s going to stop you? The best things about the world right now are there because you weren’t _supposed_ to disobey. You weren’t _supposed_ to rebel against Heaven, or follow Dean, or work so hard and give up so much of yourself to stop the apocalypse. All things considered? Things turn out a lot better for everyone when you do the shit you’re not _supposed_ to do.”

He blinks at her, startled. She…has a point. Yet…

“Don’t forget that I saw you together,” she says, soft again. “I know Dean Winchester pretty well, and the way he acted around you? That’s the way he acts around somebody he cares about, and doesn’t want them knowing. If he’s talkin’ to you now as much as you say he is, it’s because he wants you back down there. My only question is, what the hell are you still hangin’ around up here for?”

“My duties to Heaven –”

“God rewarded you for using your own head and showing some free will. Doubt he’s gonna punish you for doin’ the same thing now.”

She has an argument for everything, and Castiel can’t come up with a single suitable counter-argument, because for the first time, he can clearly see that she’s right.

And he’s done his part, cleaning up the mess his home was when he returned. He’s brought order to the chaos as much as he can, weeded out those who would seek to harm humanity and given them a choice between the sword or Falling. Most chose death, but a few took the road to mortality. Still, there’s little more he can do directly, and there are angels he trusts to leave in charge. And there’s no reason he can’t return at will to check on things.

What _is_ he still doing here?

Jo grins as she watches the play of emotions on his face, swats him in the arm when he can only blink at her again. “Go get your man, already,” she orders. “Buy him a cheeseburger and tell him to get his head out of his ass, for the love of God. And tell him I said hey.”

He nods, a promise. “I will. Jo…thank you.”

She rolls her eyes, still grinning, and points out the door. “Get!”

And with a last near-blinding smile for her, Castiel flies.

-  



End file.
